Junior Year
by iHeartiCarly
Summary: Join Carly, Sam, and Freddie as they go through their junior year at Ridgeway and deal with both the joys and pressures of growing up. Ready or not, they'll experience first loves and heart breaks, new-found passions and crushed dreams. Lots of Seddie!
1. Chapter 1

Hey! This is my first Fanfic so I would really appreciate reviews with constructive criticism! Oh, and I know this chapter's not very exciting, but trust me; this story is going to get very intense! Enjoy! :)

*Freddie's POV*

"Freddie, don't forget your rash ointment!", my neurotic mother called after me as I walked out my apartment door. I didn't even bother to point out that I am completely rash-free, because I was running late for my first day of my junior year at Ridgeway High School. I walked across the hall to my friend Carly's apartment. I was about to ring the doorbell when I was pelted in the head with a hard object.

"Ow!," I yelled, picking up the half-eaten apple that had hit me. I looked around, but there was nobody to be found. Just then, a familiar blonde jumped beside me, nearly giving me a heart attack.

"Sam!," I shouted, "wha'dya do that for?" But I knew that I wasn't going to get an answer. Sam swiped the apple from my hand, took a huge bite of it, and then proceeded to toss it down a nearby flight of stairs.

"So, Fredward, how was your summer?" asked Sam. This was the first summer that Carly, Sam, and I had spent apart. Carly had been visiting relatives in California, I went to a tech camp, and Sam stayed here.

To be honest, tech camp was pretty dull. Sure, I'd learned a lot of cool stuff to use for iCarly, and, yes, I got to avoid my hovering mother for the summer, but it wasn't all that exciting. However, for some reason I wanted to make it sound like I had a lot of fun.

"Oh, it was great! I learned awesome stuff! And I met so many awesome people. And there was this girl..." Pretty soon I found myself babbling on about how great my summer was. I really don't know why, but I wanted to impress Sam. I mean, my story wasn't a total lie. There really were girls. I just chose to leave out the fact that they all had glasses and/or braces, and the fact that most of our conversations consisted of "Where do I plug in the power generator?" or "How many megahertz are on this memory card?"

Sam just stood with her eyebrows raised as I told my story. After I finished she was silent. We stood awkwardly for a second, until Sam looked at her phone.

"Ugh, I guess we should start heading to school," said Sam, with an agonizing groan. School was her second least favorite thing in the world (after children). She reached under the doormat where the Shays hid their keys, and unlocked their apartment door.

"Carls, it's me and Freddork!," called Sam as she invited herself inside, followed by me.

"I'll be down in a second!" she shouted from upstairs. Knowing that Carly was likely doing her hair or choosing an outfit, we plopped onto the couch.

"Hey guys. I guess you're back to being permanently glued to my couch," said Carly's quirky older brother, Spencer, patting Sam on the shoulder and ruffling my hair, which had been neatly combed down, thanks to my mother. After their greetings, Spencer continued cooking the bacon and eggs taco that he had been working on, and Sam and I stared evenly at each other.

"So how was your summer, Puckett?" I asked.

"Oh it was great, " began Sam bitterly. "I worked for annoying, ungrateful people for minimum wage at The Groovy Smoothie, and stayed home watching my mom her new boyfriend makeout on our crappy couch, in our crappy apartment, in our crappy building."

I instantly felt bad about lying about my "fun time" at camp. I was about to try to comfort Sam when she immediately lightened her tone.

"I wasn't too bad though. I had a lot extra time since no one was in town..." Sam was trying to hide her feelings, but I wasn't convinced. I knew she would never admit how she felt though, so I kept the conversation light.

"And I'm assuming you used that extra time to do your summer homework, Ms. Puckett?," I asked jokingly, knowing fully that that would never happen. Sam snorted.

"I could never be that desperate!," she retorted laughing at the hilarity of my question. I noticed that as she laughed, she smiled very widely, showing off her straight white teeth. They made her whole face light up, and her blue eyes sparkle. They brought out the gold in her long curly hair. I subconsciously wondered why I was noticing this stuff about Sam. After a long time I decided that is was because of her teeth. Yes, that was it. Sam had very nice teeth. I was shaken from my thoughts when I heard a shrill scream.

"SAM!," Carly called as she tumbled down the stairs. Seconds later the pair hugged tightly. What happened next was a big blur.

"Omigosh your hair looks-"

"I know right! I thought it would make me look-"

"Oh, it totally does! How was-"

"California? It was awesome! How was your-"

"Suckish. My job was horrible. I really hate-"

"People? I know!"

Spencer and I exchanged a look, as the best friends caught up. To me it just sounded like sounded like a series of shrieks and "OMG!"'s. I sighed, knowing that I would never understand girls...

"Freddie!," Carly squealed, pulling me into a tight hug, "How was camp?" Sam looked at me with an expression that was almost challenging.

"Uh, we can talk about that later. We should probably leave for school, or we'll be late." Carly checked her watch and quickly grabbed her book bag.

"Oooh, you're right. Bye, Spencer!" The three of us walked out, and Carly and Sam began talking excitedly again. The girls hadn't changed much over the summer. Carly was still tall and lanky, but luckily shorter than me. Her wavy, blown-out brown hair was perfectly in place. She wore a denim skirt that showed of her long legs. Sam was pretty much the anti-Carly. Short and athletic, she was completely different from her best friend. Her curly hair was wild an untamed, yet it still suited her. Unlike Carly, Sam had not put much thought into her first day of school outfit, basic shorts and a tee shirt. Carly had a pink book bag full of patterned notebooks and color-coated folders, while Sam carried a few books, along with a can of spray cheese, in her hands.

When I was younger I had the hugest crush on Carly, but that was long gone. Or maybe I really never liked her to begin with. I couldn't really be sure, but all I knew is that Carly and I were just meant to be platonic friends.

When we arrived at school I could practically feel the excitement and jitters in the atmosphere. I easily spotted the incoming freshmen, as most of them were in a nervous frenzy. I just as quickly found the seniors, who were already taking advantage of their new-found power. Sam groaned, announcing for the hundredth time how much she hated people.

We all exchanged hugs and hellos with our friends and classmates. I could even tell Sam was enjoying seeing them again (although she'd never admit it.) I noticed that nearly every girl we talked to mention this "super-hot" new guy.

"Freddie! Sam! Carly! Hi!," called our jumpy friend, Jess. "Omigosh, you will _not_ believe how hot this new junior is! He's so good looking and his hair is amazing and he's so _tall_ and…" Most of what she said sounded like one huge run-on sentence and I began to tune her out, but I was getting interested in this. I mean, _everyone_ was talking about him.

"Oh my God, here he comes now!," some girl called out. Within a split second of hearing this, nearly every girl in the hallway turned in that direction, with the exception of Sam who looked as though she couldn't care less if she tried. Then I heard a shriek from down the hall, and I knew the new guy had arrived.

I, along with most of the other guys in our school, hated to admit it, but this guy pretty much lived up to what every girl was saying about him.

"Carly, Sam, Freddie, hey!," he called- and that's when we all recognized him. The hot "new" guy that everyone was obsessing over was_ Gibby. _

"Oh my gosh, that's Gibby!," Carly whispered to me. "But he's like…hot now!," she continued in surprise. We stood in shock over how much he changed in just one summer. He had grown at least half a foot and lost the last of his baby fat. He must've started working out, because he had become much broader and more intimidating. He also got a new haircut which, according to the girls, was "slightly tousled" and made his eyes pop.

"Hey Gibby," Carly answered in a not-so-subtle flirtatious tone, "How was your summer?" Sam and I exchanged a glance and rolled our eyes. We were interrupted by the bell before Gibby had a chance to answer, and Sam groaned- again. We parted for our homerooms and I walked away, still in shock. I mean, less than three months ago the guy was the weird chubby kid who had a strange penchant for taking off his shirt.

I was surprised once again that day, when I saw Sam as a walked in the door of my AP English class. Considering the fact that Sam was a self-proclaimed slacker, who hated any kind of work or thinking, I was definitely not expecting that.

"What are you doing here?," I asked Sam as I took a seat next to her, "You do realize that AP means extra work, right?"

"Yes, Benson I did realize that," she said sarcastically. "Trust me I thought it was a mistake too, but apparently they see 'untapped potential in me'," she continued smirking. Before I had time to further discuss this, class began. Our teacher Mrs. Rinske seemed really nice and interesting, but my attention was still on the feisty blonde sitting next to me drawing on her hand, who _really_ stood out from the other students, who were already avidly taking notes.

It was only third period and already so much had changed. It made me wonder what was to come in my junior year…


	2. Chapter 2

Hey! I know I haven't updated in a really long time, but I'm going to start again since its summer! (: I know this is another pretty dull chapter, but keep reading- it will get better! Please review!

Carly's POV

The bus home on Friday afternoon was the loudest it had been all week. I sat near the front, listening to the surrounding chaos. It was end of our first week of school, and we'd already been loaded with homework for the past few days. Clearly, everyone was relived and excited that the weekend had finally arrived. Shouts and laughs were heard all around and plans for tomorrow were being made. I sat next to-the newly hot- Gibby, and I scanned my brain for things to talk about.

"Don't you think it's crazy how hard the teachers are being on us?," I said.

"Yea, it's ridiculous. I mean, it's only our first week!," Gibby answered in his new, deeper voice. We talked for about fifteen minutes, until he got off the bus to go home. He got more mature over the summer, but for the main part he still had the same personality- except for his obsession with taking off his shirt. Only now I wouldn't mind it if he did…

"Hey, Carls," greeted Sam, followed by Freddie, as I got off the bus. "You wouldn't _believe_ the prank Dave Adams pulled on Mrs. Briggs this morning…" she said, launching into a story about a how a kid in her geometry class filled their universally hated teacher's hat with melted cheese. We laughed for a few minutes, exchanging meaningless banter and stupid jokes.

"Well on a less cheese-related note, we still have an empty eight minute time-slot on tonight's iCarly." Freddie pointed out.

"Everything can be related to cheese," said Sam simply. "I know! We'll combine celebrity pictures with pictures of cheese- just for the hell of it!" Freddie and I remained silent for a second or two, and then burst into laughter. My lighthearted giggles, however, stopped abruptly when we walked into my apartment to find Spencer sitting on the couch next to a female figure that I recognized immediately. I saw Sam and Freddie exchange questioning glances out of the corner of my eye. They'd been doing that a lot lately. Well, not always curious looks- just..looks. It was as if sometimes they were having a private conversation without any words.

"Hi guys," said Spencer, obviously trying to avoid eye contact with me. "We have leftover nacho salad in the fridge if you're hungry," he continued, clearly trying to keep the tone light.

"No, that's ok, Spencer. We're not really hungry," I answered quickly.

"Speak for yourself!," exclaimed Sam, making a bolt for our kitchen. Freddie laughed and shook his head, joining the constantly hungry blonde. After watching her eat for a while he could no longer resist Spencer's odd delicacy, and took a bite. This resulted in a viscous growl from Sam, followed by a punch in the chest. The woman sitting next to Spencer laughed, speaking for the first time since we'd arrived.

"Carly, your friends are adorable!," said the pretty blonde. "Why haven't I gotten to meet them sooner?"

"They've been busy," I answered shortly. "Come on, you two!," I called to Sam and Freddie, who were now throwing lettuce at each other. "We have a web show to plan! And yes, Sam, you can bring the food."

"Who was _that_?," asked Freddie the minute we plopped into our chairs upstairs.

"That was Spencer's girlfriend. Her name is _Jackie_," I replied, saying her name as though it was a deadly germ.

"You don't like her," said Sam, picking up on my feelings immediately. She didn't ask it as a question- it was a fact.

"You're right; I don't. I hate her actually," I said flatly. Usually I rambled on about, well, everything, but I didn't know what to say. I hadn't exactly figured out why I hate Jackie- I just _do._ I mean, she treats Spencer great, and she's really nice and everything, but still, whenever I see her with my brother I just feel like telling her to go away. I'd tried thinking of reasons for not liking her, ranging from "I bet she'll break his heart" to "She wears ugly shoes", but I still couldn't decide what exactly I hated about her. All I knew is that I hated her- a lot.

When I first came back from California I didn't think Spencer and his new girlfriend were a big deal, until I learned how long they'd been together. They started going out about a week after I'd left, and they'd been dating for almost three months now. Spencer has never been able to keep a girlfriend for more than two days, so this was pretty huge. Since then, I've made it very clear to Jackie that I don't like her, but she doesn't seem to get the hint at all. Spencer has noticed, but he just thinks I need to "warm up" to her.

"Why?," asked Sam, finally done with her salad. "She seems nice."

"And that's coming from _Sam_!," Freddie chimed in.

"I don't know. I just don't like her, okay? Now, let's focus. iCarly starts in an hour."

Sam's POV

I was pumped. iCarly went great, and we got the most viewers we'd had in a while. Now, as I sat across from Carly and Freddork, I was eating pork chops. They were good- very good.

"I'm going home," said Freddie, grabbing his jacket. "See you guys tomorrow."

"Why? Will your mommy ground you if you're not home by nine?," I teased.

"Actually, yes she will," he answered, sighing. I snorted, as the dork rushed out the door.

"Shouldn't you be going home too?," asked Carly. "It's getting kind of dark to walk."

"Can I just crash here tonight?"

"Sure. Is everything okay?"

"Yea, everything's fine," I lied. My mom probably would still be out, but I was getting sick of sleeping alone in the empty apartment that was starting to get cold at night because my mother was too cheap to pay the heating bill. Of course, even being alone was better than the alternative. When my mom wasn't out getting wasted and hooking up with random guys from the bar, she was at home. Usually she was either ridiculing me, or passed out on our couch, which reeked of vomit and God knows what else. Personally, I preferred the ladder.

This had been the way things were for as long as I could remember. My dad, whose face I've never seen, left my mom as soon as he learned she was pregnant, when they were both in their late teens. Now, he was in and out of jail for about a dozen different things. Even when he wasn't in prison he never visited. It wasn't that he didn't know where to find us- he didn't want to. The man that I had the displeasure of calling my father never cared enough to come back and probably didn't feel any guilt. My mother never really got over being abandoned, and as soon as I had learned to feed, bathe, and clothe myself, began go out to bars and clubs leaving me, at as young as age seven, home alone for days at a time. The longest she'd ever been gone was for three and a half weeks, in August when I was thirteen. I'd never admit-or forget- how terrified I was during that hot summer. Sometimes, my mom went go through periods where she brought a different guy home every night, and I watched as she woke up the next morning abandoned- just as always. On a few occasions she has had boyfriends, but she seems to have this ability to attract the scummiest, most awful people. My mother drinks to escape her problems, and there is no doubt in my mind that she is an alcoholic. I usually come home to find her drunk, unconscious on the floor, make-up smeared, hair matted.

But, hey- it could be worse.

"Sam! Helloo?," called Carly. "Are you alright?"

"Yea," I answered, shaken from my thoughts.

"Okay, I'm going to go change into my pajamas. You have extra clothes in my room, right?"

"Yep." I always kept clothes and a toothbrush at Carly's just for times like this. After I changed into my pajama pants and tee shirt I headed downstairs, to find Carly in blue pajamas with hearts on them, and fuzzy pink slippers. I wondered what it was like to live in Carly's mind. I had a feeling it was simple in there.

We spent the night watching cheesy romance movies. Well, actually Carly watched them, while I snickered at the corny lines. The scene in the last one had Carly sobbing, and me cringing.

"That was so cute!," exclaimed Carly at the end of the sappiest one.

"No, it was ridiculous," I retorted. "Aston Kutcher, however, was _very_ entertaining."

"Yea, but his character was a total jerk."

"Who cares? He had his shirt off in every other scene. Those were the only good parts of the movie."

"The other guy was cute, too"

"You mean the surfer one? Nah, he was way too clean cut. Besides, I don't like guys who use more hair products than I do." Our pointless chatter resumed for another few minutes until Carly drifted off to sleep. Some time, around three-thirty, sleep found me, too.

On Saturday morning I was awoken by the sound of a sizzling stove and the delicious smell of Spencer's chocolate chip pancakes. Before I even opened my eyes I remembered I was in Carly's room, and not my shitty apartment. If I was at home I would most likely be woken up by the homeless guy that for some unfathomable reason, likes to sit outside my window yelling at innocent passer-byers. Pleasant, I know.

"Good morning," said Carly, who was already awake.

"Backatcha," I mumbled groggily. I was definitely not a morning person. We went downstairs expecting to see Spencer, only to be greeted by his girlfriend, Jackie. She stood at the table in plaid pajama pants, buttering a huge stack of chocolate chip pancakes.

"Hey, girls!," she said in a chipper voice.

"Where's Spencer?" asked Carly in a monotone, ignoring Jackie's friendliness completely.

"He just went around the corner to the deli. He'll be back in a few minutes," she replied in the same cheerful tone, not seeming to pick up on Carly's hostility toward her.

"Oh. So , you spent the night here?," inquired Carly, trying and failing to sound nonchalant.

"Yup," answered the oblivious woman. She took a seat at the table, motioning for us to do the same. She gave us each a plate of pancakes, and the three of us sat in silence.

I immediately dug into my breakfast- it was insanely good; I knew I liked this chick. Finally, I had to comment, partly because the awkward silence was driving me crazy.

"These are so good," I said, with me mouth half full. I could feel Carly's eyes glaring at me. Her pancakes were still untouched.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," said Jackie laughing. After what seemed like forever, Spencer walked in.

"Good morning, sleepyheads," he said to us, sneaking up and startling Carly. Jackie and I laughed, but Carly was not quite as amused. The look on her face turned even more sour when Spencer kissed Jackie before joining us to eat.

A few hours later, Carly, Freddie, and I went to the movies.

"So, what should we see?," asked Freddie, as we stood just outside the movie theater.

"The new ' Chuckie' movie looks good…," I answered hopefully.

"We are _not _seeing that!," said Carly quickly. She had an annoying opposition to any movie involving blood.

"What about the one with Megan Fox?," asked Freddie, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"That's not playing until seven," pointed out Carly. "_500 Love Letters_ starts in twenty minutes. We should see that!"

"No!," exclaimed Freddie and me in unison. Although Freddie and I didn't always have the same taste, we knew we wouldn't want to sit through a movie of Carly's choice.

"Why not! Zac Efron's in it! And it looks really good! The critics gave it really good reviews, and my cousin told me it-" Carly was interrupted by a sickeningly high pitched voice.

"Are you talking about _500 Love Letters_? I've been _dying_ to see that! I have an idea! We should all go together!," exclaimed a tall brunette that looked vaguely familiar. Carly, Freddie, and I stared at her for a second, wondering how the hell to respond to that.

"Uh..who are you?," I asked, somewhat rudely, breaking the silence.

"Maya!," she answered, obviously expecting me to recognize her once I heard the name. I continued to stare blankly.

"I'm in your Spanish class," she said.

"Oh, I knew that.." How did she expect me to remember her? I barely remembered my teacher's name. Freddie and Carly looked at me confusedly, and I shrugged. We soon learned Maya's motives, as she walked past me, and up to Freddie.

"Hi, Freddie," she said in an even higher voice than usual, if that was possible.

"Hey," he answered, slowly. "How do you know me? We don't have any classes together, right?"

"I know you from iCarly, silly! You _totally_ make the show!"

"Well, thanks," he replied, still slightly confused, but enjoying the attention, nonetheless.

"Anyway," continued Maya, "I think we should see _500 Love Letters_. I heard its totally romantic."

"I agree with Maya!," said Freddie quickly.

"Yay!," exclaimed Carly. "Let's get our tickets."

"I'll buy the tickets," said Freddie, trying to show off how "gentleman-ly" he was to his new admirer. Carly giggled at Freddie's desperation as he walked up to the window, not taking his eyes off Maya. I, however, was extremely annoyed.

"I'm going to kill him! Now we're stuck watching this stupid movie!"

"It's not stu-"

"Just five minutes ago, he didn't want to see it either, and then _she_ comes along and makes him all crazy!"

"Who cares? At least he's paying."

"True. What does she see in him, anyway?" _His sense of humor, his smile, his hair_, answered my mind. I chose to ignore that.

"So as I was saying," said Maya to Freddie as we settled into our seats. "I hate that you never get as much screen time as _other people_ during iCarly. The show would be so much better if you got more of the spotlight!"

_ Bitch_, I thought to myself, angrily. Carly and I exchanged shocked glances, and then looked at Freddie, anticipating his response.

"Well, I'm more of a behind-the-scenes kind of person…," said Freddie uncomfortably.

"With your looks, iCarly would get _so _many more views if you were the star of it," she answered. My response was some kind of cross between a gasp and a snort. I couldn't decide whether to be annoyed that Maya was being so obnoxious about iCarly, or laugh at her obvious desperation. Freddie continued to insist that he was happier behind the camera, but he was clearly loving Maya's compliments.

The movie was torturous, just as I'd guessed; And the shallow plotline and terrible acting wasn't even the worst part. I spent two hours sandwiched in between Carly, who wouldn't shut up about Zac Efron's abs the whole time, and Freddie, whose pathetic plays at Maya were actually _working_. Honestly, the whole thing was entirely sickening. Not even twenty minutes into the movie, I was so annoyed with Freddie's stupid jokes and Maya's annoying giggles that I actually started watching it. Of course, it sucked, just as I presumed.

"I'm gonna go pee," I announced a little while later, as if someone actually cared. I returned almost half an hour later with the excuse that the line was really long. It wasn't as if anything had changed anyway. Later, when Maya went to get more popcorn, I "accidently" spilled some soda in her designer bag, when Carly and Freddie weren't looking. I was sure she'd just love the surprise of opening her expensive Coach bag to that when she got home. Hey, it was pretty ugly anyway.

"We should text sometime, Freddie," said Maya as we walked out of the theater after the movie ended. The two exchanged numbers, and then we finally shook her.

"She was _so hot_!," exclaimed Freddie as he, Carly, and I began home. "She was all over me, too! Did you guys see that?"

"Yes," Carly answered. "We could see that very blatantly."

"It was awesome!," he replied grinning. "She was so hot!," he repeated. I really wished he'd stop saying that, and I _really_ wished that it wasn't true. Maya, with glossy brown hair and perfect tanned skin, was the epitome of every guy's dream girl. She was insanely tall, standing at 5''8 at least, and incredibly thin. This, of course, made Freddie pretty much wrapped around her finger. The huge boobs probably helped, too.

Part of me was aggravated with Freddie for showing interest in a girl like her, but a bigger part was mad at myself for even caring.


	3. Chapter 3

Hi again! This chapter took longer than expected to write; Sorry! It's another slow one, but bear with me. The story will get better! Chapter 4 should be up within the next week. (That one will be much more exciting!) Anyway, thank you for the reviews- keep 'em coming!

After a grueling gym class and a brutally hard physics test, I bit into my french fry and heard a satisfying crunch. Nothing beat the taste of a nice lunch after a hard Monday morning. Sam, who sat across from me at our usual table near the window, seemed to be enjoying my lunch, as well. At this point, I was too busy chowing down my food to fight back. Besides, I knew Sam could kill me anyway.

It was a brisk autumn day in late October. I looked out the window- no, _our _window- and observed that the crunchy leaves that speckled the trees and ground had turned various shades of yellow and brown, and that more and more passer-byers were beginning to don jackets and sweatshirts, as the weather was becoming progressively cooler. Carly, Sam, Gibby, and I sat at our table and chatted as we ate.

"So Gibby, what did you think of that math test," asked Carly.

"It was so easy. I finished in, like, twenty minutes."

"Oh, me too! It was ridiculously easy!," Carly answered quickly. Sam and I exchanged smug glances. We both knew Carly was lying. Less than ten minutes ago, she had told us how hard the test she'd taken the period earlier was. Ever since we'd returned to school in September, she'd been all over Gibby. Of course, he didn't exactly mind it. He'd always had a thing for Carly anyway.

"Are you coming with us to the Groovy Smoothie after school?" By this point, Carly was in her full-on flirting mode, batting her eyelashes and giggling after every other sentence.

"Yeah," answered Gibby grinning. Then, he ran his hand through his dirty blonde hair, a signature move of his when talking to Carly. Of course, this triggered more giggles. I rolled my eyes and turned to Sam, who was making gagging motions and noises. We talked separately, something we often did at moments like this, when we were positively sickened by our friends' ridiculous behavior.

"I'm hungry," grumbled Sam.

"You just had a burger, along with half of my fries!"

"I don't care." I laughed at how serious Sam got about her food. For someone so thin, that girl could really eat.

"Well, I think you're in luck. I'm pretty sure my mom packed me with extra food." Sam immediately perked up as I pulled a brown bag out of my backpack. She quickly swiped it from my hands and dug in.

"Mmmm, ham is my favorite!" The boisterous blonde took huge bites, pausing only when she dug into the bag for more and came across a small folded piece of paper.

"Sam, give that to me!," I exclaimed as she began to open it. However, I was too late; Sam scanned through it and burst into hysterical laughter. I cringed knowing that it was most likely one of those stupid mushy notes my mother left for me, usually consisting of several humiliating pet names for me, as well as, way too many "I love you, sweetie"s. My mother was under the impression that I was perpetually five years old, and didn't exactly grasp the concept of "letting go".

"Oh my God, Freddie, this note is hilarious," said Sam, still highly amused. I quickly grabbed it from her hands, crumbled it into a ball, and shoved it to the bottom of my backpack.

"My mom is _so_ annoying," I grumbled, "She thinks I'm still in kindergarten."

"Relax, Fredward. At least your mom gives a crap about you."

"But she doesn't realize that I'm going to be seventeen!" My mother's overprotectiveness always aggravated me, but it seemed to be getting even worse as I got older.

"Whatever. All I'm saying is that you should be happy your psycho mother bothers to take the time to write you stupid little notes." I looked at Sam, completely shocked that she was suggesting anything having to do with being accepting or grateful.

"Well, that was scarily out of character. Are you sure you're really Sam?"

"Shut up, Benson," she replied lightly punching my arm. I laughed, pretending it didn't hurt. It did.

"Anyway," I began, changing the subject, "We have English next. Did you do the homework?"

"Yea, it was easy." Sam's response made me nearly choke on the water I was drinking.

"_You_ did homework?," I asked incredulously. I must've said it fairly loudly because everyone at the surrounding table looked at Sam in utter shock.

"Hey, I have my moments!," she shouted, grinning.

"First you suggest that I do something nice, and then you do your homework? Who are you, and what have you done with the blond-headed demon, also known as Sam?"

"Don't worry; I'll be back to slacking off and doing cruel things to people tomorrow." I laughed. However, our care-free banter halted when I smelled a familiar overly sweet fragrance.

"Hi, Freddie," said Maya, pulling up a chair next to me.

"Hey," I answered, making my voice an octave lower. I saw Sam across the table rolling her eyes.

"I had _such_ a great time at the movies with you Saturday! We should do it again some time." I felt my cheeks flush as she touched my arm, flirtatiously.

"Definitely. You should come watch us film iCarly this Wednesday." Sam glared at me frighteningly.

"Really? That would be so cool!"

"Yea, it will be fun. " Maya then went on to talk about clothes, and I zoned out. She was insanely hot, but a bit on the ditzy side, so instead of listening I found myself admiring her incredibly tight, low-cut top. I was brought back to Earth when Sam kicked me under the table, much too hard, might I add. She widened her eye, indicating that Maya had asked me a question.

"Uhh…can you repeat that?" Maya laughed.

"I asked if you wanted to go to my friend's Halloween party on Saturday! He said I can invite whoever I want."

"I'm in!," I answered, anticipating her wearing a revealing, body-hugging costume.

"Oh, and you can bring _them_ if you want," she said, shooting a hostile look in Carly and Sam's direction. Sam scowled and gritted her teeth.

"Sounds great! Okay, I'll text you later," I said, ushering Maya away before Sam could rip her head off.

"You can wipe the drool off your chin now," said Sam in a snarky tone, as I returned to the table a moment later.

"Quit it, Sam. You're going to her party anyway, right?"

"Hell yea. I don't pass up free food- even if the person providing it is an obnoxious tramp." I chose to avoid conflict and ignore the ladder part of Sam's answer. In a moment her big blue eyes met mine, and I realized she couldn't be any more different from Maya if she tried.


	4. Chapter 4

I was feeling super ambitious so here's the next chapter- I hope you like it! As always: review, review, review!

Oh, and I guess now would be a good time to mention that this story is rated T for substance abuse (mostly alcohol), some violence, and slight language. (Nothing too extreme though!)

PS: I don't exactly have experience with alcohol, so I'm writing a lot of Sam's parts based on what I have read, and heard from others. If I mess anything up feel free to tell me.

Enjoy! :D

*Sam's POV*

There were many aromas that I had grown to hate over the years. That dreadful, indescribable odor of school in September was one of them. Another was the scent of my mother's cheap, overwhelming perfume, which usually indicated that she would be going out, abandoning me for whichever sleazy guy she went home with that night. The unmistakable smell of the not-exactly-legal substances I often caught a whiff of around my crappy neighborhood was one of the least pleasant, because it reminded me of the dump I was stuck in. All of these sucked, but the worst, by far, was the strong, awful smell of Vodka that had so often hit me when I stepped into my apartment.

On an autumn Friday, late in October, I walked into my home to be greeted by that incredibly unpleasant smell that I had come to be so familiar with. It stung in my nose and was strong enough to make me gag, but I knew the worst part would be looking in the kitchen or den to see what had become of my already screwed-up mother. That was _always_ the worst part.

Growing up, other kids came home from school to the smell of chocolate chip cookies baking, or a freshly cleaned house. For me, it was always alcohol. Although at a young age I didn't know exactly what the point of alcohol was, I knew my mom used it to escape her problems. I also knew that one of the primary problems she wished to get away from was _me_. A little later I figured out that she was an alcoholic. I even tried to help her a few times when I was younger and more naïve. Of course, each time I confronted her, it resulted in a painful slap across the face, a violent fit, or extreme denial, followed by either of the previous, so I eventually gave up on her.

I walked a little further and came across two Vodka bottles, one half-finished, and one completely empty; I gulped. All I could do now was hope that she had passed out already, so I could avoid the erratic, often violent state she was in when she was wasted. I sighed, looking down at the bottles again. My mother had tried other kinds of alcohol, but always returned to Vodka, because she could get it really cheap. She drank it straight, so it also gave her the quickest escape from the horrid life she so longed to leave.

"Sam…is that…you?" called my mom from the den. I walked in to find her clumsily staggering from the couch towards me.

_Shit._

"Uh..yea. I'm home. I think I'll just go to my room now and-"

"Not..so fast." My mother spoke in a tone that sent shivers down my spine. I inched closer and saw how glassy her eyes were.

"How much did you drink?," I asked cautiously.

"That is NONE of your beeswax, young missy…."

_Oh, God_, I thought. She was so far gone. Her weight was currently being supported by the side of the couch, and her worlds her so slurred that they were practically incoherent. I walked once again towards my room, but was stopped by her outstretched arm. I could've fought past it, but I knew it was best not to mess with my mother, especially when she was this inebriated.

"So, what time did you get home?" I could hear the anxiousness in my tone as I asked this fairly simple question. She had been out when I left for school this morning…

"Why the _hell_ are YOU so curious?" Her stance changed drastically in a split second, the way it often did when she was so intoxicated. She now looked defensive, violent. I backed away slowly as she stumbled toward me.

"Are you trying…to leave, Samantha?" I cringed at her use of my full name. I opened my mouth in attempt to say something to calm her down, but before I could, her cold hand hit my face with a great amount of force. I winced, but I was able to keep silent. Her brown eyes flashed dangerously as I started for the door.

"You, Samantha, are not goin' nowhere…" She stopped me by forcing her pale, bony arms into my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. Still, I refused to indicate that I felt any pain.

"You…are a stubborn, little bitch, Samantha," she said, with a somewhat sickening smile. She took a clumsy swing at me, missing by just inches. I ducked as she took another, this time avoiding me by even less. She took one more shot, hitting my left cheek this time. I stumbled sideways nearly falling on the floor. That one would leave a mark. It took most of my strength to keep from screaming.

My mother tried to hit me a few more times, farther and farther off with each swing. Her taunting words slowly became even less intelligible, and her stumbling got worse. I took advantage of her more dormant state, and escaped to my room quickly, locking the door. I heard her giggles and hiccups in the distance, as well as the random words she spoke to no one. Eventually, these sounds faded and I assumed she passed out. I decided not to risk it and check if my guess was correct, so I resolved to stay in my bleak, but safe room.

A part of my mind observed that this had become a twisted pattern. On most days when my mom was home, I hid out in my room after having the crap beaten out of me. Miserably, I sighed, knowing that today wasn't even one of the worst experiences I'd had with my drunken mother. I looked at the damage in the nearby mirror, and was relieved that the bruise on my cheek was light, so it could easily be concealed by make-up. I laughed darkly, with no real trace of humor, as I realized that it was pretty sick to be relieved after any kind of abuse from a parent, or anyone for that matter. It sucked to have a mother who I constantly feared might drink too many shots, and then _take_ some shots at me. My eyes filled with tears, but I blinked them back, refusing to let them spill over, even though I was alone. After all, Sam Puckett didn't cry- ever.

I absolutely detested dealing with the pain that came after a beating. The cuts and the bruises were bad, of course, but the sadness was even worse. Numbness always came first, followed by complete melancholy, and usually some angst. I wanted, no, _needed_ to avoid the emptiness, the self-pity. To block out all thoughts, I stared at my walls, focusing on only them. They were a dark, grey-blue color, never repainted when my mom and I moved in. Normally I loved blue, but this was a dreary, austere color, which, much too often, represented my mood.

Just when I thought I would lose it completely, an idea occurred to me. I grabbed an old pen, and a notebook filled with half a page of science notes, and I wrote.

*Freddie's POV*

"…and remember, don't put your drink down, because someone will spike it! And don't kiss females! Oh, and don't forget to call me…" My mom had been ranting for a good ten minutes before I could get a word in.

"Mom, please relax. I won't do anything stupid. Now, I really need to get to Carly's. We're leaving in a few minutes." It was Halloween, and I was leaving, or rather, _trying_ to leave to get to the party Maya had invited me to.

"Okay, Fredward. Just be careful! And be home by curfew! And make sure there's a mature, responsible, adult, authority fig-"

"Bye, Mom!," I called, cutting her off as I walked out the door, across the hall, and into the Shays' apartment. I looked around; it was empty except for the zesty Halloween decorations created by Spencer.

"Freddie, is that you?," called Carly from a distance. "We're upstairs!" I made my way up, and was greeted by Carly, Sam, and Gibby in the iCarly studio.

"Hey, Freddork," smirked Sam as she struggled to walk in a pair of pink, strappy shoes.

"Hey," I answered, not the least bit offended.

"What exactly are you supposed to be?," she asked, looking highly amused by my outfit of choice, a long white lab coat, round black glasses, and a short gray wig.

"I'm world-famous scientist, Steven Hawkins," I answered as though it was obvious. Sam snorted and rolled her eyes. Now, it was my turn to laugh as she practiced walking across the studio, slowly and steadily, in high heels. She and Carly couldn't decide what to dress up as, so they settled on being exaggerated versions of each other. Carly wore ripped jeans, a blue t-shirt with a crass expression on it, and brightly colored sneakers, a favorite of Sam's. She carried around a bucket of fried chicken, and wore her hair in long curls, instead of her signature straight style. Sam, on the other hand, wore a ruffle-y denim skirt, a pink lacy tank, a ton of jewelry, and heels, borrowed from Carly's closet, no doubt.

"Carly, how the hell do you walk in these things?," grumbled Sam.

"It's easy- just keep practicing! Your shoes are worse. Your feet are tiny!"

"They are not. Your feet are just humungous," I countered.

"For your information, my feet are perfectly proportional to the rest of my-"

"As _interesting_ as this conversation about shoes is, we should leave. The party starts in twenty minutes," I interrupted.

"Spencer's at the Groovy Smoothie. He'll be back in a few minutes," Carly answered bitterly.

"Jackie's with him," Gibby whispered to me, explaining Carly's tone. About five minutes later, Spencer called for us, and we stormed down the stairs and piled into his car.

"So," began Spencer from the driver's seat, "What time should I pick you up? Jackie and I are going out after I drop you off, but we should be back around 11."

"I dunno," mumbled Carly, obviously annoyed. Jackie sat in the passenger seat and tried to break the tension.

"What are you guys dressed up as?," she asked pleasantly. I told her that I was being Steven Hawkins, which received a blank stare. I figured I would be getting a lot of those tonight.

"I'm a ham!," exclaimed Gibby proudly. I didn't care if he was "hot" now, that kid would always be freaking weird.

"What about you two?," Jackie asked Carly and Sam.

"We're dressed as each other," answered Sam, eyeing Carly, who was pouting in the seat next to her with her arms crossed.

"That's such a cute idea! Wow, you guys are so creative," responded Jackie. Sam murmured an awkward "thanks", while Carly sat in silence. We finally got to the party after an extremely uncomfortable ride.

When we walked in, the party was already in full swing, complete with couples frenching on various chairs and couches, beer snuck in by the upperclassmen, and a game of "7 Minutes in Heaven" in session. Yep, there was nothing like good, clean fun.

After a while the four of us split up and went our separate ways. Carly, who was now in a much better mood, danced with Gibby. Sam joined me, after greeting a few of her juvenile delinquent friends.

"Hi, Freddie!," called Maya, running toward me in a beautifully skimpy outfit, "Do you like my costume?"

"Oh, it's great! You make such a wonderful…um…" I didn't exactly know what she was supposed to be. She was clad in a white outfit that was so tight and revealing, it could be mistaken as lingerie. It was like Heaven.

"I'm a bunny, silly!," she responded, pointing to the little white "tail" she had taped to her lower back.

"Oh. Well, I think you make an amazing bunny," I answered, grinning slyly. Sam, who had been standing next to me, snickered. She looked as though she wanted to get her own two-cents in about what Maya really looked like. Instead, she walked off to the other side of the room.

"You know what I think _her_ problem is?," said Maya, pointing toward Sam, "I think she's just jealous that she could never pull off a costume like this." While, I thought that seemed like the farthest thing from true, I nodded in agreement.

"So, what are you supposed to be?," she asked.

"I'm Steven Hawkins," I answered in the most flirtatious tone that someone who was dressed as world-famous scientist could use.

"Who's that?" More giggles.

"A scientist. A really smart guy," I answered in simple terms.

"Oh. I think that's absolutely adorable!," she answered, placing her hand on my chest. She then told me she had to go help a friend who had passed out in the closet, but said to look for her later. I agreed to, most avidly.

"She is so hot!"

"I know. Those legs are _fiine_." I heard male voices a short distance away, and soon joined Brad, and some other friends from the AV club.

"Who? Maya?," I asked, jumping in to the conversation.

"No, man, we're talking about Sam Puckett." I nearly choked on my water.

"What? You don't think she's hot?," asked Brad.

"Well, she has nice…skin?" I usually tried not to think about Sam in that way, failing more often than not.

"Whatever, man, she's at least a 9.5."

"Plus she's an awesome kisser," chimed in my friend Buddy Hinton. This time I really _did_ choke on my water.

"You and Sam kissed? _When?"_

"Dude, chill. Are you two going out or something?"

"What! No. Just tell me when you kissed Sam." At this point I was completely flustered for far too many reasons to count. I felt protective over Sam, since Buddy was quite the player, but I also felt oddly jealous.

"We were in, like, eighth grade. It was in a port-o-potty at a Cuddlefish concert." That story sounded vaguely familiar. I recalled Sam mentioning it to Carly and I, nearly two years ago. I _also_ remembered her later insisting that she'd made the story up and that she'd never kissed anyone. Of course, after that Sam and I shared a moment that would ultimately change the course of our friendship forever. It was I moment that crept into my mind far too often.

"Are you _sure_ that it was Sam?"

"I'm positive. It was awesome. And she did this really cool thing with her tongue-" I tuned him out to spare myself the nausea. Suddenly, a thought dawned on me. If Sam really hadn't been lying about Buddy, it meant she'd _wanted_ to kiss me. This thought made my heart pulse faster, in a way that freaked me out.

"So if you and Sam aren't going out," inquired another of my AV club friends, "is she available?"

"Uh...no. She's seeing someone. He's a big guy. You wouldn't want to mess with him." I walked off to the food table, and nibbled on some chips. I observed that Carly and Gibby had grown bored of dancing and were now making out in a corner.

"So I guess they're kind of a thing now," said Sam, joining me, motioning to a now intertwined Carly and Gibby.

"Yea," I responded, my thoughts going back to the conversation my friends and I had just had. God, I had to get my mind off of that. Luckily, as if on cue, Maya began to stroll toward us. She was perfect.

"She is so _hot_," I crooned.

"You've only said it about five-hundred times," retorted Sam sarcastically. "Besides, she looks like a streetwalker."

"Who cares? She's _hot_." We were then interrupted by a giggly Maya advancing toward me.

"Hey, Freddie," she said in a singsong voice, "I'm soo drunk."

"Oh, really?" I raised my eyebrows suggestively and inched closer.

"Uh-huh!" She staggered to the table for another cup.

"She's faking it," Sam whispered to me in a deadpan tone.

"How do you know?"

"I can just tell, okay? Plus, she's been carrying the same cup around all night." I had to admit, Sam did have a point. Still, I intended to use Maya's drunkenness, genuine or not, to my advantage.

"Secrets aren't fun!," called Maya, turning back toward me, with an over exaggerated stumble.

"Don't worry about it," I answered. "Sam was just leaving now." Sam's blue eyes flashed at me dangerously before she clenched her jaw and stalked off.

"So, what shall we do now?," asked Maya giggling.

"I have an idea…" I grabbed her hand, leading her to a nearby closet. Evidently, Maya was sober enough to manage to lock the door.

"There are waay too many buttons on this thing," she said as she fumbled with the fastenings on my coat. I helped her along and proceeded to plant sloppy kisses on her lips.

_Tonight_, I decided, rather rashly, _I would just let go…_


	5. Chapter 5

Here's Chapter 5! Sorry for the wait- I've had terrible writer's block. The next chapter should be up within the next few days. I love getting feedback, so PLEASE review! (:

*Carly's POV*

For a Monday morning, my day was going absolutely amazingly. It began with being greeted by a smile and a kiss from Gibby, much to my pleasure. The two of us had gotten together at the past weekend's party, and I couldn't be happier. I sat next to him on the bus, ignoring the slightly disgusted looks on Sam and Freddie's faces, and the envious stares from the girls sitting nearby.

"So, Gibby, when do I get to meet your parents?" I asked.

"Soon," he promised. "Just be warned…they're very odd."

"Well they are_ your_ parents, after all."

"Touché." Later that day, I walked into my apartment, relieved to find Spencer sitting alone, Jackie-less. My day just kept getting better and better.

"Hey, Spencer," I said exuberantly.

"Hi, Carls," he answered in a serious tone. He wore a glum expression, a rarity for someone who was usually so cheery.

"Is everything alright?," I asked anxiously. I was uneasy about whatever it was that was bothering my brother, but at the same time I had a feeling of blissful anticipation. My mind drifted to a very likely reason for his grief. I silently chided myself for even thinking about celebrating Spencer's failed relationship, yet I still had to work to suppress my horribly evil smirk.

"I lost my job." My face immediately fell. This was not what I had been expecting.

"What? Why?"

"My work hasn't been selling," he replied in a miserable tone. He had been working for a local art dealer for the past few years, and up until recently he had been fairly successful.

"Does someone need a hug?," I asked, trying to cheer him up. He nodded pathetically and embraced me.

"So, what are you going to do?," I asked.

"I dunno. Maybe I'll go back to law school," he answered bitterly. I couldn't picture Spencer blending well with high-class law school snobs at all.

"At least then I could wear the cool light-up tie that Socko's cousin, Tyler gave me…" He gave a weak, very unconvincing smile. I sat thinking for the next few moments.

"You know what?," he said suddenly, a few minutes later. "Maybe this was for the best. Jackie is coming over for dinner tonight. I think I'll tell her then, and we can discuss my options." My stomach turned after hearing this statement, for _so_ many reasons. The mere mention of Jackie upset me, but the mature, sensible words coming out of my zany brother's mouth were nearly too much to bear.

"Oh. You haven't told Jackie yet?"

"Nope" Once again, a dark thought crossed my mind. _Really_, I thought to myself, _what women would want to be with a guy who's unemployed? _I felt terrible hoping for the demise of my brother's relationship, but I couldn't hold back the sly smile that slowly crept onto my face.

*Sam's POV*

As my mother's drinking problem got more and more serious, the conflicts and fights turned into a routine, becoming progressively more rotten every time. My days had fallen into a pattern: go to school, come home, get the living crap beaten out of me.

When I returned from school after a very mundane Monday I could smell that horrid, gut-wrenching aroma. I walked gingerly down the hall, trying as hard as I could to be silent as I crept towards the stairs. I was succeeding, until the step I touched let out a loud creak that rung dangerously through the stony silence. _Fuck._

"Helloo?" I had two options: stay here and get beaten now, or go upstairs and spend hours waiting for the inevitable. Before I could even choose, my mother had stumbled to the stairs and edged closer to me. I could smell the Vodka in her breath the second she was near.

"Why, Samantha…you're verrry late.."

"No, I'm not," I answered too quickly- it was a lie. I had arrived home nearly two hours later than my usual time, stalling at Carly's place.

"Don't lie to me." She annunciated each word separately, and said them in a chilling tone.

"Sorry," I mumbled quickly. I bolted toward the door, but I was hindered when my mother grabbed my shoulders forcefully.

"M-mom? I think-" My pathetic attempt to pacify her was cut short when she slammed me into the wall. My head seared with pain, and I struggled to steady my breath. I screamed internally, but kept a straight face. Her hands curled into fists dangerously at my lack of a response.

"You…ain't ever gunna learn, are you? Stop being so damn stubborn, Samantha…" She proceeded to punch me in the jaw, and then, without warning, powerfully kicked me in the shin. I swallowed the blood that flooded my mouth, and looked down on the humungous bruise that was already forming on my leg. It took all of my strength to keep from crying out in pain. My mother's expression contorted into one of utter rage, she wanted a reaction from me. I felt physically ill to think that my own mother longed to see me in pain.

"Samantha, this could just end now, you know," she stumbled even closer.

"Don't call me that," I said steadily, through gritted teeth. At this, she lunged toward me pushing me to the floor. Every part of me was in throbbing pain.

"Don't you talk back to your mother, if ya know what's good for you!," she screamed at me violently. "Do I need to mention Kurt?" I instantly froze. My spine went ridged, and my pulse raced. I immediately felt my hands tremble. _Oh God. She wouldn't,_ I thought, but her expression said otherwise. She smiled, enjoying my agony.

"I knew you'd see it my way, Samantha." She slapped me across the face, and I let out a scream. I had to oblige to my mother's disturbing wish to see my pain. I couldn't allow her to mention the memory of the past, I'd tried so hard to bury. She finally let go of me, and I sprinted out the door. I immediately walked down the stairs, and out of the building, knowing exactly where I was headed. I sped down about five blocks, enduring the aches all over my body, and reached the apartment building where Carly and Freddie lived. However, I walked right past both of their apartments. They wouldn't understand something like this- and how could I expect them to? They'd both lived such sheltered lives. Sure, I mocked how overprotective their guardians were, but the truth was, I'd have given anything to have someone care about me so much.

I chuckled bitterly when I thought about how little Carly and Freddie really knew about my life. There were days when I wanted to tell them everything- about my mother's drinking problem, the real cause of all my bruises and scars, and even about the memory-the one my mom threatened me with- of that one night so long ago. But I couldn't. I would never be able to. They just wouldn't understand. _They_ got to eat dinner around a table like a real family. _They_ spent their childhood having fun on the playground, being care-free. _They_ had actually heard the words "I love you" spoken to them with genuine affection. And I hated them for it.

I detested being so spiteful of Freddie and Carly, but I couldn't help it. They had everything I wanted, and they didn't even know it. I tried to pretend I didn't give a crap, and sometimes I'd even believe it myself, but never being hugged or told "I love you" could really take a toll on you. I clenched my fists, trying to get these depressing thoughts out of my mind. Finally, I reached my destination, the fire escape on the 8th floor. I was well aware that sitting in a fire escape wasn't going to fix my alcoholic mom, or my demons from the past, but I was so desperate to get away that I was far beyond the point of caring. I came there often, actually, as it was quite and private, but much less dismal than my room.

I was vaguely aware of the physical pain I was in. My head throbbed, my leg ached, and my jaw hurt so badly that I contemplated lying on the floor, curling into a ball, and whimpering pathetically. Newly formed bruises were already appearing on my arms and legs, and I was still spitting out blood.

I sat for a while, watching as the moon slowly rose higher into the sky. Most kids my age had a curfew, and were probably expected home by this time. I, however, could be away for any number of hours, and no one would notice, much less care. I scowled as I felt a single tear roll down my cheek. I hated crying; it was a sign of weakness, and I was, most certainly, not weak. I wiped it away, along with the remainder of my emotions. Finally I lied down on the ground and closed my eyes, hoping that tomorrow would be a better day.

*Freddie's POV*

"Carly. _Calm_ down," I pleaded with my irrational friend, who had been ranting for the past half hour.

"I can't! Jackie's just _so_ annoying! I mean, I thought, for sure, she would break up with Spencer when she heard about his job. She's just so clingy!," answered Carly, obviously distressed. Her pacing was making me dizzy.

"Carls, complaining about it won't change anything. Just-"

"….and you know what the worst part is? Spencer becomes, like, a completely different person around her, and-"

"Listen to me. Don't you think maybe you're being just a little-"

"…I mean, Spencer's had relationships before, but never this serious. It's like whenever _she's_ around I don't even ex-"

"You've been saying the same thing for the past thirty min-"

"…and I bet she's not so nice under all her fake happiness. Spencer may not see though it but I-"

"Carly, for the love of God, shut _up_!," I finally shouted, unable to take her senseless rambling anymore.

"You could have asked nicely…," said Carly defensively, crossing her arms. I sighed, exasperated.

"Sorry," I answered flatly.

"Me too," answered Carly, collapsing into a beanbag chair. I closed my eyes for a moment, savoring the short period of silence. Unfortunately, it was interrupted much too soon.

"So, Freddie. Let's talk about what happened at the party last weekend," said Carly, smiling the same way she does when she's about to hear a good piece of gossip. I groaned.

"No offense, but I _really _couldn't care less about you and Gibby."

"I was talking about you and Maya!," she exclaimed, rolling her eyes. _Crap._

"I saw you two go into the closet together! Are you, like, a couple now?," she continued.

"No, we're not. Maybe in the future it will happen, but not now. It was a one- time thing," I answered, knowing that this response would compel Carly to ask about a billion questions.

"A one-time thing? That's not like you at all."

"I know, I know. It was kind of stupid. I mean, Maya's insanely hot and everything, but I shouldn't have done it- not for my reasons."

"What reasons? Why did you do it?"

"Jeez, Carly, is this an interview or something"

"Tell me!"

"Just forget it. It's stupid."

"Please tell me why you did it? I'll keep begging you if you don't. And you _know_ how annoying I can be," she said. Boy, how true that was.

"I don't know," I answered. "I was trying to clear my mind." I seriously hoped that my answer would suffice.

"What do you mean?"

"Ugh. Just drop it, okay"

"No!," answered Carly, refusing to give up.

"I was trying to forget about someone, alright. She-I mean, this person- was on my mind, and I hated it. Now that's _all_ I'm saying." Carly looked very intrigued at this.

"Okay, just one more question," she said. "How far did you and Maya go?"

"Not all the way, "I answered immediately, very thankful that it was actually the truth. "A base or two was reached, but then we stopped and that was it. We've still been texting and flirting, but we're going to take it slow. Oh, and don't tell anyone about what happened between Maya and I. _I mean it._"

"Not even Sam?"

"Especially not Sam," I answered surely. I felt bad keeping it from her, but I couldn't face her wrath if she found out. She hated everything about Maya, and she would be _totally_ pissed at me. I thought back to that night, and remembered the way my heart raced when I learned the truth about the kiss that Sam and I had shared. I remembered the way she looked just as beautiful as Maya in her own, completely different way. I remembered thinking of the small, nearly impossible chance that Sam might resent Maya out of jealousy. And then I thought of how ridiculous it all was. Sam was my friend and that was all she would ever be.

"Freddie, what do you think about Sam?," asked Carly after a while.

"Huh?," My heartbeat quickened out of a somewhat absurd fear that Carly could read my mind.

"I mean, she's been acting odd lately. Don't you think?" I took a deep breath in relief.

"Uh, Carly? Isn't Sam always odd?"

"Freddie, I'm serious! I'm worried about her." All jokes, aside, I was very concerned about Sam, as well. She had shown up at school today with matted hair and bloodshot eyes. She seemed completely exhausted, and even more irritable than usual. When Carly and I had asked what was wrong, which we had done several times throughout the day, she would either snap at us or ignore us completely.

"I know, Carly," I answered. "I am too." We sat in silence, yet again. Carly was a close friend, and I loved her to death, but after spending time with her I always felt exhausted. I happily relished the pensive moment.

"So, Freddie?," said Carly, ruining the peace, as usual. "Was Maya a good kisser?" I groaned, burying my head in a pillow.


End file.
